


No One Knows Me Like You Do

by obscurial



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Exes, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Isak Valtersen Has Issues, Isolation, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 08:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12766968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurial/pseuds/obscurial
Summary: Staring blankly at his screen, Isak thinks to himself about how much of abad ideathis is.He’s also shockingly sober, which only serves to remind him thatfuck, he doesn’t even have an excuse for randomly messaging his ex-boyfriend of two years, out of the blue, at a socially unacceptable time to text your ex, if there evenwasone in the first place.(Also known as a post break-up au.)





	No One Knows Me Like You Do

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh, i got back to writing again! (not sure if that's a good thing or not, though) i would like to formally apologise for once again, needlessly contributing to the angst tag on ao3. HAHAHA.
> 
> warning: mentions of alcohol abuse and a brief use of an ableistic phrase (please let me know if there's anything else i should warn!)

**ISAK**  
I miss you ****  
02:43

Staring blankly at his screen, Isak thinks to himself about how much of a _bad idea_ this is.

He’s also shockingly sober, which only serves to remind him that _fuck_ , he doesn’t even have an excuse for randomly messaging his ex-boyfriend of two years, out of the blue, at a socially unacceptable time to text your ex, if there even _was_ one in the first place.

But he feels so fucking _alone_ , and he doesn’t think that he can handle the emptiness of his own apartment any longer, the familiar claws of insomnia grasping at his head mercilessly.

Thinking bitterly to himself about how just two years ago, he had a boyfriend who loved him and friends he could open up to, he tosses his phone carelessly onto the other side of the mattress, falling back against his bed with a self-depreciative laugh. He really just had to push the few people who _actually_ cared about him away, didn’t he?

Just as he’s about to berate himself for essentially being the root cause of his pathetic isolation, for the millionth time, a bright light _bursts_ from his phone, plunging the room into dim visibility.

Reaching over to check his screen, Isak’s heart very nearly stops in his chest.

 **EVEN**  
Fuck, Isak  
02:58

I miss you too, so fucking much  
02:59

Wait, are you drunk?  
02:59

Isak feels like he’s about to throw up. Adrenaline is coursing through his veins, making his heart thump _violently_ in his ribcage, and he breathes in rapid staccato, attempting to soothe his panic. He contemplates ignoring the texts, and perhaps even taking up his ex-boyfriend’s suggestion – after all, if he recalls correctly, he does have a bottle of cheap, off-brand cherry vodka sitting at the back of his fridge.

But he’s _tired_ of pumping alcohol into his body out of sheer loneliness and misery. It was fun for the first couple of weeks, but the whole picking-up-your-own-broken-pieces act got real old _real_ quick. He thinks his liver might just even thank him for this.

 **ISAK**  
I wish I was  
03:01

The reply is almost immediate.

 **EVEN**  
Come over  
03:02

I’ll wait for you at the door  
03:02

You know where I live  
03:03

Taking in a deep breath, Isak tries his best to calm himself down. Okay, so his spontaneous decision to text his ex-boyfriend actually worked. No biggie. He wants him to come over? No biggie. At the back of his head, Isak wonders if it’s not too late to take a swig of that bottle to numb his panic.

 _Everything is going to be just fine_ , he chants to himself in his head as he swings his legs over the side of his bed, _I know just what I’m doing_.

\---

Okay, so maybe Isak doesn’t _quite_ know what he’s doing.

Toeing off his battered converse sneakers, he silently pads his feet across the cold, familiar floor, with nothing but mere cotton socks separating him from the wooden planks in Even’s apartment.

“It feels weird to be in here again,” Isak murmurs, avoiding Even’s heated gaze like the plague, his own eyes boring holes into the ground. The ivory-coloured woodgrain unleashes a sense of nostalgia that _crashes_ against him in waves, and it feels as if the dam inside his head, filled to the brim with memories all related to Even, has been loosened.

As always, Even reads him like an open book.

“Stop overthinking, Isak,” he whispers against the younger’s nape, his comforting arms pulling Isak flush against his chest as he buries his nose in the crook of Isak’s neck, “I can hear the panic alarm going off in your head.”

Sighing contentedly, he reaches back to comb through Even’s locks, threading the blonde hair through his fingers like he’s done a thousand times before. His heart twists at the familiarity of it. Of _him_.

“No panic alarms, I promise,” he mumbles, pulling away from Even’s arms and instantaneously missing the warmth that was enveloping him. Getting onto his tiptoes as he turns towards Even, Isak leans in and presses his parted lips against Even’s, kissing him deeply and eagerly.

He absolutely _loses_ himself in the kiss – his hands wander across the small of Even’s back, fingers grazing against the small band of skin between his shirt and his trousers teasingly. He feels the shiver travelling down the ridges of Even’s spine, feels the way Even presses himself against Isak’s chest as if wanting _every_ single part of him touching Isak, feels Even’s lanky arms sling themselves around Isak’s neck. Isak belatedly thinks that this _sensation_ , this drunken sensation of Even’s freckled skin against his own, easily beats the cherry vodka _any_ day.

Somewhere between Even sucking greedily on his tongue and their teeth clacking noisily against each other, Isak finds himself guided to Even’s bedroom, his back pressed against the doorway as Even continues to kiss him _senseless_.

Pulling away with a wet _pop_ , Even watches him with half-lidded eyes, unadulterated desire clouding his cornflower irises with a dark fog. Isak swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth cavity with a loud gulp, before reaching up to smear his thumb across Even’s wet bottom lip, his palm cradling Even’s jaw with a tenderness he never knew he was even _capable_ of.

Almost as if burnt, Even flinches away from Isak’s touch.

“Sorry,” Isak automatically says, pulling his hands away from Even because _shit_ , what is he _doing_ , Even’s not _his_ anymore, he’s not allowed to touch him like _that_ anymore.

Smiling weakly, Even shrugs, moving away from Isak to sprawl his long limbs across his bed. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Come here.”

Nodding, Isak obediently goes closer, and he watches Even slip out of his t-shirt, exposing his pale chest and tapered waist. He follows suit, expertly yanking off his hoodie in a single pull. Even’s eyes follow the faint shadows casting over his abdomen, immediately widening when his gaze falls on Isak’s chest.

“When did you get _those_ done?” he asks, eyebrows raising in amusement as he admires the way the silver barbells glimmer in the moonlight.

Isak half-smiles, shrugging his shoulders easily as he tosses his hoodie aside. “A little while after we broke up, actually. Magnus managed to talk me into it.”

Reaching out, Even traces his fingers around Isak’s piercings carefully, and the younger squirms at the ticklish sensation.

“I didn’t know you were the type to get your nipples pierced,” he comments casually, bringing his fingertips towards the titanium and touching them gently, as if he were afraid of hurting Isak.

“You don’t know a _lot_ of things about me, Even, not anymore,” Isak curtly replies, and he instantly regrets saying the words the moment they come out of his mouth. Even visibly blanches, fingers pausing their movements.

Heaving out a sigh, Isak shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to punch himself in the god damned _face_ , “No, wait, that came out wrong. I don’t-“

“You’re right,” Even quietly says, “I don’t know a lot of things about you anymore. You’re right.”

Frowning, Isak leans in to press a kiss _far_ too intimate for either of their liking against Even’s forehead, silently conveying his apologies because _fuck_ , that was a _low blow_ and he _knows_ it.

“Save it, Isak,” Even speaks in an indecipherable tone, “You’re only speaking the truth.”

Without even waiting for a reply, Even pulls Isak down onto the bed with him, kissing him with a newfound vigour. He’s desperate, Isak can tell, with the way he clumsily licks into Isak’s mouth, and the almost frantic way he’s gripping onto Isak’s curls.

Isak indulges in Even’s wordless request and kisses him _dirtily_ , just the way he knows that Even likes it, his hands pinning down Even’s hips against his sheets. A noise slips out from Even’s plump lips, only to be swallowed by Isak’s mouth, the guttural moan becoming nothing more than mere vibrations spilling from Even’s throat.

He feels Even’s fingers moving from Isak’s hair to his jeans, long fingers prying his zipper open and tugging his trousers down to his knees. Even’s fingers, as nimble as always, manage to pull Isak’s half-hard cock out from his briefs, and he strokes Isak nice and _slow_ , coating his entire length with his precome.

Pulling away from Even’s lips to catch his breath, Isak pants out soft curses, before leaning back in to nip and suck at Even’s shoulders, leaving harsh, red bites scattered across his skin. Even _whimpers_ at the sensation, tilting his head to the side to allow Isak to ruin his speckled neck.

Never one to deny Even, Isak absolutely _destroys_ his pale skin, pressing his teeth and lips into the smooth surface. The breathy whines that escape Even’s lips only serve to hasten the rush of blood travelling towards Isak’s cock, his heart _palpitating_ loudly in his ears.

With shaky hands, Isak reaches down to carelessly pull off Even’s trousers and boxers all in one go, with the aid of Even’s wriggling hips. Just as he’s about to return his attention to Even’s collarbones, he feels hesitant fingers tracing across his chest.

“Is it okay if I…”

Even doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Isak nods eagerly, guiding Even’s lips towards his pink nipples with a soft touch against his nape. Fluttering his eyelids shut, Even suckles at the sensitive skin, bringing up his other hand to teasingly flick at his other barbell.

The sensation drives Isak _wild_ , coaxing throaty moans drawn out from his reddened lips as he straddles Even’s waist, his fingers entangling themselves amongst his golden hair. He curses under his breath as Even holds him between his teeth, raking his incisors over Isak’s pebbling nipples with _just_ the right amount of tenderness to tide him over.

As he pulls away, Isak can’t bear to look into the other’s eyes, in fear of seeing some of his gentleness spill over into the depths of his blue, blue eyes. Freeing his shaky hands from Even’s locks, he pushes himself up onto his knees, and shuffles down the bed to take Even into his mouth in the _filthiest_ way he knows how, sucking and slurping and pushing until he feels a _burn_. He wants to feel the _rawness_ in his throat when he wakes up tomorrow. Hell, he wants to feel it for _weeks_ , wants to cherish this moment of rare companionship for the rest of his days.

Even reaches down to halt his movements, concern filling his facial expression in a way that _clenches_ Isak’s heart.

“Isak, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he says, and his voice sounds so soft, so _tender_ , that it ignites something well and truly _ugly_ within Isak.

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” he hisses, throat hoarse from earlier, “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You think you know everything about me, think you know what’s best for me? Jesus _Christ_ , you talked so much shit about Sonja, but really, _you’re no better_ -“

Even slams Isak down onto the mattress, his eyes hardened with anger. He looks _dangerous_ , his face completely blank of emotion, but his tell-tale baby blues telling Isak an entirely different story. He sees the hurt in his irises, and _revels_ in the feeling. Laughing humourlessly, his lips curling into a snide grin, Isak reaches up to patronisingly pat the side of Even’s face.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot how much of a sore spot that was for you,” he coos, watching the way Even flinches from Isak’s touch in disgust with sick fascination.

(It feels like he’s in a dream, where he’s unable to control his body nor his actions, and he’s left to helplessly watch this fucked up version of himself hurt the one person he loves _most_. But much like a car crash, Isak just can’t bring himself to look away.)

Something shifts within Even and the rage melts away instantaneously, relaxing the tenseness in his shoulders. Instead, he’s looking at Isak with such sincerity, such _sympathy_ , that Isak realises there really isn’t a single person who knows him better than Even.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Isak starts, voice quivering despite its growing volume, “Don’t _fucking_ look at me like that- like- like you _pity_ me! I don’t need your _goddamned_ pity!”

He hates the way Even’s looking at him right now. He hates the way Even always manages to look past Isak’s well-constructed front, always manages to make him feel so fucking _vulnerable_. But most of all, he hates how he doesn’t deserve a _single_ bit of Even’s kindness.

Isak doesn’t realise that he’s crying until he finds himself wrapped in lanky arms and pressed against a solid chest. His resolve immediately weakens and he slumps against Even, hiccupping and gasping until his cheeks go red and his shoulders tremble.

“I- I just- I’m so _sorry_ , Even,” he wails into Even’s neck, feeling the other’s hand cradling the back of his head, soothing him with soft strokes and quiet murmuring, “I don’t know what’s wr-wrong with me, but something _has_ to be wrong with me, because Jonas won’t talk to me anymore and Magnus won’t pick up my calls and Mahdi’s gone back to pretending I don’t _exist_ \- I don’t know why, but I keep saying these shitty, _shitty_ things that I don’t mean _at all_ and I can’t control it! What’s wrong with me? What the _hell_ is wrong with me?”

Pulling Isak away from his chest, Even presses his forehead against Isak’s, his gaze fastened on Isak’s, and he gently nudges the younger with the tip of his nose. Isak can’t help but feel like he’s _been_ in this position before.

“Isak. Remember when everything went to hell? That night, when you told me that you couldn’t love me because I was ‘batshit crazy’? I’ve been thinking about it a lot since then, and I’ve realised that you were lying to me.”

Even continues, as he bumps his nose against Isak’s, “For the longest time, I believed you. I believed that you deserved better, so I let you go. But then I remembered what you said to me a long, long time ago, after the first manic episode I had when we were together.”

_You are not alone. I’m here for you, I’ll always be here for you, for as long as you’ll want me to._

The memory flits through Isak’s mind in thin wisps, and he remembers the way he whispered those words against Even’s cold, chapped lips, remembers just _exactly_ why he finds their position so familiar. His eyes are wide, surprised, and he honestly can’t believe that even after _years_ , Even still remembers what he said to him.

“And then I knew that you, being the emotionally constipated little _shit_ that you are, were probably just pushing me away because you felt like you didn’t deserve to feel happy,” Even finishes, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Which I could never understand, because you _do_ , Isak, you _do_ deserve to feel loved and cherished and happy.”

Clutching at Even’s shoulders, Isak wrecks out a sob, feeling awfully incoherent but thoroughly relieved that Even _never_ gave up on him, _never_ stopped thinking about him even after all this time.

“I just want you to know, Isak, that you’re not alone. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here for you, for as long as you’ll want me to,” tucking a stray lock of Isak’s hair behind his ear, Even offers him a sheepish smile, his eyes glistening, “I’m sorry it took me this long to say your words back to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally intended as an entirely angsty piece, but i couldn't help turning it into something sweet at the end. god help me, i've gone soft. 
> 
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated!! <3


End file.
